


R&R

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 17:42:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14899073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: This takes place just before "A Castle with a Thousand Rooms".  When the team, well Chief, Casino and Actor anyway, head for London for an event-packed two-day leave, Garrison stays back in Brandonshire to enjoy a little down-time himself.  Goniff, well, as Garrison told Sergeant Major Rawlins, "Don't worry about him.  He'll keep himself occupied, I imagine, though I doubt you'll see much of him til the guys get back."Actually, everyone kept themselves well occupied, and as Goniff said with a broad smile afterwards, "it was good, it was ruddy good!"





	R&R

Three back to back missions and they finally got a break! The Warden had even wrangled two day passes for the team to go up to London and get some R and R, though he'd issued a long list of what he did NOT consider to be part of the allowable ways for them to GET such R and R. Just reading the list would have given anyone insight into the trouble these men could get themselves into!

"No bank jobs"; "No museum jobs"; "No cons"; "No snaffling of small, glittery objects of any kind," (though they figured that was directed primarily at Goniff, and the scornful snort he gave when reading that item told them he pretty well agreed); "No fighting"; "No hunting down of that Intelligence Officer who gave us such bad intel on that last mission and extracting revenge, however justified"; and the list went on. And on. And on! 

Still, it was a break and they were excited. Two days in London, them leaving on a Tuesday night and not having to be back in place til Friday morning in time for the morning training, and the Warden had even promised an envelope to each with some spending money. None of them had any intention of mentioning their own little nest eggs they had tucked away from a few little side endeavors, though certainly funds from that source would be added to those little envelopes to ensure a really memorable leave. Quarters had already been arranged through a friend of a friend. Actor's little black book had been pulled out and consulted, with him agreeing to make introductions, if not to any of the rather select women listed therein, "really not your types, my dear fellows", at least to some friendly and accommodating ladies to suit each of their preferences. They were excited; yes, that has been said before, but it deserves to be repeated. 

Yes, all except the Warden, of course; he was staying here, so he was more a combination of apprehensive and relieved, than excited. The only trip to London he'd be making was if the Brass called for him, or if the guys got in so much trouble he'd have to come bail them out. He was really hoping neither happened; he was as tired as they were, and he just wanted to rest and not think about jumping out of airplanes for a couple of days. For him, that meant he was REALLY tired!

And, unexpectedly, or maybe not, depending on how much you knew about the current situation, Goniff wasn't as eager as he usually was. Well, in fact, he'd begged out of a few of those passes in the past few months, come to think of it. And this time, "changed my mind; don't think I'll 'ead up this time, guys; maybe next."

Actor tried to hide a knowing grin, Chief gave a slight twitch of the side of his mouth which was the equivalent. Only Casino just came right out with it, with a sly grin.

"Yeah, kinda figured you'd back out. Know you got what you think you're looking for down at the Cottage, but ya know, it might not be a bad idea ta get out there, take a look around, just see what yer missin. Might change your mind. Wouldn't hurt!" only to have Goniff look at him like he'd lost HIS mind.

"You were there when the girls were doing all that singing, weren't you? That time when Major Richards' sister walked outta 'ere like someone coshed 'er upside the 'ead? Remember those songs?" 

He was referring to the set of songs Meghada had written for her sister to sing at a stateside nightclub called "Cheaters", and they had all been quite vivid in their descriptions of what befell men who decided to do just that little thing. All of the guys visibly winced at the memory of those very pronounced declarations of vengence planned, vengence taken, felt themselves draw up just a bit, well more than a bit, tighter.

"Thank you, I'm quite 'appy as things are, and 'ave no compelling need to see what ELSE might 'appen, in addition to any of those, particularly with that one ending with roses and an open grave being right memorable." He shuddered for effect, but with a cheeky grin. 

To be honest, which he occasionally was, he had no interest elsewhere; the Cottage and what it offered, ALL it offered, claimed all his attention, and he wouldn't have it any other way. He certainly had no intention of mucking it all up by 'taking a look around!' And for what??! What could possibly be out there better than what he already had right now??!

Of course, he wasn't about to explain all the particulars of that to Casino, or the other guys, and he'd actually gone along on a few of the leaves early on even after he'd found his place at the Cottage, but now found it more a chore than a pleasure, what with NOT chatting up the skirts, which while it wasn't their ONLY activity, still it represented a goodly portion of their time. And if one decided to chat him up it wasn't so easy trying to shy away without creating a hassle or setting the guys to teasing him about being 'henpecked', and to his mind 'smart' didn't equate to being 'henpecked" anyway, and that LIST of the Warden's that just kept getting longer and longer as time went on and his experience with the guys and their antics expanded.

And no, no matter how much he might joke about it, he wasn't afraid of the consequences, not as such anyway, except for mucking up the best thing he'd ever found, acourse. He just didn't see spending the time being bored in London when he could have some good times right here. And there were some very good times, indeed. 

"I can understand your point of view, Goniff, certainly," came from the tall Italian, Actor, solemnly. "But there is something else to consider. Those weren't the only songs sung that day, as I remember. The thing you must think about as well is, do you think you can survive three nights in a row at the cottage?"

And the laughter rang out, but the slight Englishman just responded, "three nights, two days, and I'll just 'ave to do my 'umble best, now won't I?" with a totally wicked grin and a waggling of his eyebrows, and the team roared.

The songs Actor referred to were decidedly suggestive, and one of them had been an absolute paean to a lover's abilities and stamina, and had earned Goniff a rousing toast from Garrison and the team, to his flustered, but sheepishly pleased, embarrassment. He'd told Meghada afterwards, "maybe you and your sisters shouldn't sing that song again, least in front of the guys?" but with a laugh, not really meaning it. He remembered the night that inspired that song as well as she did, would probably remember that night for the rest of his life. Of course, there were quite a few other nights just as fine that she hadn't gotten around to writing songs about, at least not yet, and he grinned at the thought of maybe creating a few more. 

Casino saw that grin and groaned. "See what you did, Actor. Now he's staying behind for sure! Probably be thirty pounds lighter by the time we get back, too!, maybe another couple a inches shorter even! Sergeant Major's gonna have to find him different uniforms!" teasing the short and decidedly wiry blond.

"Not with the way she feeds him, he won't!" Chief interjected with something actually approaching a smile. "Seems like she's always baking anymore, not to mention all the rest she finds to cook when he's around. Whatever she wears off, she'll put right back on him," and Goniff grinned even more, both of those pictures pleasing him more than a little. Whoever said a man couldn't have his cake and eat it too??!

A voice from the doorway, "is that right, Goniff? You've decided not to go to London? You sure? Sounds like they have some interesting plans," with a raised suspicious brow.

"Interesting, Warden? Now how could we possibly have interesting plans, considering that new annotated List of yours? Activities as dull as dishwater, I'm sure, that's all we're left with," came the mournful response.

"Somehow, Actor, I'm sure you'll manage," came the extremely dry reply from their team leader, Lieutenant Craig Garrison. Chuckles and knowing looks came his way from all of the men.

He shook his head, "just don't make me have to come get you, bail you out, hire lawyers, pay off any women, rescue you from any . . ." 

He was interrupted by a collective groan, "and there he goes again, adding to that damned LIST!"

He just gave them that look, and handed out the envelopes, "Actor, Casino, Chief. And if you're not going, Goniff, I guess you won't be needing . . ." only to have the envelope snatched from his hand.

"Now, don't be that way Warden. Takes a bit of the ready to spend a really nice weekend at 'ome too, you know!"

Garrison repeated that look, but didn't take the envelope back, only waggled his fingers, "half, Goniff, give me back half!" and with a mock pout the pickpocket did so. Hell, he could always take it back later if he really wanted it, and they all knew it. 

And both Goniff and Garrison knew that envelope had only been included in the first place so the guys wouldn't know everything had all been arranged.

So the guys took off for London, eager and anxious; they'd get there after most legitimate activity was shut down for the night, especially with having to drive without lights due to the blackout, and didn't THAT just add to the adventure! But Goniff had given them a few addresses and a few names if they decided to just get right down to the Relaxation part of this little trip, and Actor had no intention of settling in those ever so modest quarters Garrison had arranged for them. Meghada had offered to get rooms at Hotel Marchant again, but didn't insist when Garrison had declined; she had the feeling the guys had something else in mind anyway. When Chief stopped the jeep, Actor had looked up at the tiny pensione and shuddered.

"Dreadfully inconvenient part of the city, you know, and I know this rather nice hotel where they owe me a few favors. Much more conducive to a memorable visit, don't you agree?" and they did, or at least Casino did, Chief just anxious to get out of that car and breathe some air, no matter what part of the city that air was in. Still, when the concierge led the way down the plushly carpeted hallway with the crystal lights on each side wall and the paintings at such frequent intervals, he had to admit this was probably at least a few dozen steps up from where Garrison had intended them to end up. And a hell of a long way up from the Base quarters where the Brass would have preferred they stay. He snickered to himself, {"Brass had their way, we'd be in the stockade on rations with maybe a new deck a cards for our leave!"} Three rooms, luxurious by their standards, if perhaps not Actor's, awaited them. They dropped their duffles in their rooms and gathered in Actor's to make their plans.

"Very well, first . . ." and the grins that ensued, well, they were enough to make Garrison groan in apprehension if he'd seen them.

"Bet the little Limey's gonna regret not comin along, once he hears about this little adventure!" Casino enthused. Actor just bit his cheek to refrain from that knowing grin, "perhaps, Casino, perhaps, but I'd not make book on it!"

"Sergeant Major, you know the number to reach me if you need me," Garrison told Gil Rawlins, trying to suppress the anticipatory grin just fighting to break out.

"Yes, sir, of course. The lads are off safely, then? All of them?" Gil asked with official correctness, having a bit more success in keeping his own smile to a minimum.

"Well, Goniff decided to stay behind. Don't worry about him; he'll keep himself occupied, I imagine, though I doubt you'll see much of him til the guys get back. We'll all see you on Friday for training, if not before."

"Yes, sir."

Gil was never sure what to say next. He'd like to extend his sincere good wishes, but how to phrase it was the question. Somehow everything sounded a bit, well, off when he said it in his mind. {"Enjoy yourself? Enjoy yourselves? Have a good time?"} Somehow with what he knew, what he suspected, what he imagined, it was all just a bit awkward.

Still, he had a strong liking for the Yank officer and the lads, and for the young woman as well, so he just gave in and added a smile and "have a pleasant time, sir," and in reward received an amazingly boyish grin from Craig Garrison.

"I imagine I will, Gil, thank you!"

It was one of those times when Gil Rawlins remembered that Lieutenant Garrison was the youngest of the team, other than Chief; it was good, but slightly disconcerting, to see the young man that he actually was on display, instead of the firm, determined military officer. Gil rather thought that was a healthy thing, letting that part of him out to play now and again. And he would be safe; his companions, his 'playmates', as it were, would take good care of him, and at least one of them keeping a good handle on things overall, making sure they were all safe and cared for. If he felt any unease at the thought that that person would be the young woman, well, he didn't show it. He'd grown to have a lot of respect for her, even considering she was the youngest of the three by some years.

The next morning dawn came with not a hint of rain or clouds, other than those wispy clouds that drifted across the sky like meringue over a slipped custard. She'd pulled back the blackout curtains when she'd awakened, so they could enjoy the dawning from that big wide bed, and they greeted the day in their own most pleasurable fashion, one they wouldn't mind forming as a habit should circumstances someday allow. A late breakfast in the garden, at that smaller round table, not the long one they used when the team came visiting, coffee, real food, not rations, plus pastries to satisfy the two who had the yearning for sweets.

"And you truly do not have to go back to the Mansion, Craig? How wonderful! That doesn't happen nearly often enough; HQ seems to forget you're needing some free time too!"

"It's hard enough getting them to believe the guys need some free time; you wouldn't believe what favors I had to call in for this one! Went thru all the old arguments, 'base soldiers get leave' 'but these aren't base soldiers!'; 'no, these men are undertaking missions across the channel, stressful missions, and need a break!; 'soldiers fighting across the channel are under stressful conditions as well, and for much longer periods of time, and get no such breaks!. Like talking to a big Brass wall!" Garrison fumed.

"Well, you were successful, and they have their leave, thanks to you," Meghada told him comfortingly. 

"Any idea what they intended to use their time for?" she looked over at the third person at the table, steadily making his way through the last of the pastries, licking at his finger and then dabbing the serving plate to get the last crumbs.

"Oh, a bit of this and a bit of that, I imagine," came back with an amused grin.

"Oh, I think we can be sure of that," Craig said with a less than amused hrumphh.

"Now, Craig, it's been almost, what, fourteen 'ours since they left, and you 'aven't gotten a call yet, 'ave you? Just relax," and Goniff gave a teasing laugh, "time enough to get upset when you 'ave to, you know!"

And Meghada laughed at the expressions on both their faces. She loved seeing them together like this, together and in a place where they could relax, not have to be on guard against saying too much, showing too much. On these rare, very rare occasions, she did the unthinkable and locked the metal gate leading into the garden, and when they were inside, the kitchen door. Usually both were open when she was home, though the villagers knew she didn't welcome casual visitors, and those from the base learned it right quickly if they didn't heed the warnings. Still, sometimes she got deliveries, and those came to the kitchen door, though none doing the delivering ventured inside; some few came to call, Alice Miller and Mrs Wilson, maybe a couple of others; some came for first aid, though not nearly so often since Dr Riley had come, as he was much more accommodating than the previous man. She'd called Dr. Riley yesterday, told him she was not available; he understood, and would help any, even those truly unable to cover his tab; she'd do that, gladly, in return for this space of time without interruption; the locals were now well aware of that too, though not knowing the reason for the Cottage to be so secured; many just figured she was gone away again, as she frequently did, though not so much anymore. 

Well, the locked gate and door would tell its own story, and no one with any sense would try and broach that, and she had alarms in place for anyone so foolhardy as to make the attempt. She laughed to herself, {"the only one who dared, is already sitting at this table!"}, looking with pleased contentment at the flaxen-haired second story man earnestly making sure she wouldn't have any leftovers to worry with. So thoughtful, he was, in that way.

Garrison seemed to read her mind, at least about the last bit, and laughed, "you know, the grape pattern on that plate is NOT edible, Goniff, you should probably stop trying to scrape it off!" They helped her clear the table and tidy things away, and at her suggestion picked up the newspapers and magazines she'd fetched from London yesterday when she'd picked up supplies, and settled down in the sitting room, fresh coffee beside them. 

She worked some in the garden, picking what was ready to be picked, checking to see what would be ready next, relishing the sunshine, the soil beneath her hands, the richness and promise of the harvest, the sheer joy of knowing those two were safe and contented inside, and the anticipation of the pleasure of the next two days and nights; Goniff came out to lend a hand and discuss lunch (of course!), a few stray kisses leading to a delightful little episode in the middle of the almost spent greens patch, and it was a good thing too that it was so close to being finished, since any future possible harvest was quite thoroughly smashed; Goniff had made a serious attempt at looking regretful at that, but only succeeded in looking smug, to her amusement. The only downside of that little interval was the disreputable state of her dress, which would have to go to Mrs. Wilson now; she wondered if the old lady would ask for an explanation of the green streaks and blots! Craig hadn't asked for an explanation when he'd come in search of them, just gave a bray of laughter and shook his head at the two of them grinning up at him.

Craig made a call to the Mansion to be sure nothing had come up needing his attention - receiving a mild scolding from the Sergeant Major for doing that, along with the one he received from Meghada later for calling in the first place.

"He knows the number, Craig, if he needs you. Now stand down, Lieutenant! You are on leave; you are to rest and relax; that is your job right now," stroking his hair back off his forehead as he'd seen her do with Goniff. He looked over at the smaller man, wondering if Goniff would be upset at this very personal attention, to see a smug 'told you so!' look and grinned sheepishly, and nodded his agreement. A leisurely morning, quiet, nothing remarkable, just a bit of total blessed togetherness for the three of them.

Back at the Mansion, the Sergeant Major looked through the pouch that had come in from HQ. "Nothing that can't wait til Friday, I'm sure of that! They seem to think 'e's made of steel, 'im AND the lads, just machines to keep sending out without rest, not caring if they break down. Well, this can just wait!"

Down at the Cottage, Meghada had gotten a call, never mind from whom, telling her about that pouch, and that it indeed had nothing that couldn't wait til their leave was over, and she blessed Gil Rawlins, as she had on more than one occasion in the past, when she heard from Craig that he'd been told there was nothing needing his attention. {"One more for the Friends and Family List, I believe!"}

Lunch, a clearing away of the debris, and the decision to spend some time on the wide cushioned benches in the garden, open to the sky and the sun, discreetly screened by the walls and shrubs and a bit of vine covered lattice placed here and there. Pleasure in the unusual warmth of the day, in the peace and quiet, some easy conversation, gradually shifted to pleasure in each other, and clothes quickly became inconvenient, then downright annoying. Meghada gave thanks once again for the lack of any close neighbors, Goniff being, as usual, beautifully vocal, that cross between a loud purr and roar bringing a delighted chuckle to her, well as much as she had breath for. Craig had NO breath left for chuckling or anything else, only heaving deep gasps and trying to regain some control. Still, the huge grin on his face showed he didn't consider this any hardship, no, not at all. {"Yes, I could easily get used to this. I don't think I've seen either of them this relaxed, this COMFORTABLE, in a very long time."}

She brought out tea in the late afternoon, with scones she'd baked while they'd been busy at the newspapers earlier. "Dinner, of course, and I've something a bit special planned, then what, lads? A trip to the pub, music or reading here? It's your bit of time, what would you prefer?"

After considerable discussion, they decided on a mix; a trip to the pub, but nothing extended, and then music here. And so it was, and most pleasant it was too, though having to answer a few inquiries at the pub as to where the rest were, and if they were in London, why was Goniff here? A small white lie, or perhaps just a bit of misdirection.

"Let's just say he's paying penance for some of his mischief," Garrison told the questioners with a bit of stern authority in his voice. "He'll have to make do with the pub, instead of London, and maybe that'll teach him to think twice next time."

A tilt of the head, a whisper from the blond thief, "ei, just what was I supposed to 'ave done?"

Getting in return a dry, "does it matter? I'm sure you've done SOMETHING warranting it, whether I know about it or not," he gave a rueful but cheery nod of agreement, "probably so!"

He decided to take Garrison's advice, "if anyone asks for particulars, just grin and look guilty, but pleased with yourself!"

Meghada just laughed happily, sipped her one shot of whatever the hell the pub was dispensing out of that old bourbon bottle these days, and was content to watch them interact with each other and the villagers, til Garrison gave the nod and they stood up to leave.

"Leaving so soon, Lieutenant?" the manager asked.

"Yes, things to do, you know," getting a nod of understanding in return. 

"And just what things did we 'ave to do?" was asked, and answered, and the music was postponed til another time, though music and song did occur, just not involving the guitar or harp or piano, nor even the phonograph or radio.

The previous day had been so successful, the three decided on a repeat, and to no one's surprise, found no part of that to be boring or wanting in any manner for the repetition. Instead of the pub, though, that night passed in reading in the new book Meghada had brought from London, 'Harvey' by Mary Chase. They'd intended only a couple of chapters but found it so entertaining it was a couple of hours before they called a halt.

And although the activities following did not include a six and a half foot invisible rabbit, they were entertaining enough, certainly, and led to a most satisfying night's sleep. At various times, each of them woke, to lie awake for a bit and listen to the soft night noises coming from their companions: from Goniff, those soft mutterings; from Craig, the murmurs seemingly in answer; from Meghada, the gentle crooning whenever she heard either of them. And that was all music as well, though of yet another kind. 

It was in the early predawn when she reluctantly woke them both.

"Time to head back, lads, I'm sorry to say."

And they wiped the sleep from their eyes, had a fast cup of coffee and cheese and tomato omelettes and leftover pastry she'd hidden away just for this purpose, and climbed into the jeep to make their way back to the Mansion.

"Do ya think they made it back yet?" Goniff asked.

"Well, they have another ninety minutes before they're due on the obstacle course; we'll see how close they cut it," Craig replied with a chuckle.

His smile died away, and he took another look at the slender man in the seat beside him, "Goniff . . ." and stopped, not knowing how to continue, how to say just what this time, what the two of them meant to him.

Knowing blue eyes smiled back at him, "I know. It WAS good, wasn't it?" and Craig found himself now able to smile back, nodding.

"Yes, it was good!"

Someday, these two days might be more the norm rather than the rare exception; for now, in this uncertain world, they had to treasure every such moment, store up the memories, hold them tight. Even if the comment 'it was good' was the only thing they could let themselves say, at least for now. At least it was the truth.

Of course, his mood changed when the end of that two-day pass came and went with no sign of the guys, and no word, but that was probably to be expected. And if it took another six hours for them to come dragging in, apologetic, seemingly sincere in their regrets, but with a gleam in their eyes belying that.

And Lieutenant Craig Garrison girded himself for whenever the phone would ring, telling him just what mischief they'd been up to. For, from the delighted laugh from his pickpocket who was getting the blow-by-blow in the Common Room, it must have been something really special! In reply to their own questions about HIS at-home leave, Goniff just gave a hugely satisfied smile and told them, "what can I say, mates? It was good, it was ruddy good!" and left any details to their imagination. And, No, he assured them, he didn't regret not going with them, not one bit, though he was glad they'd had such a good time.

"Sorry you didn't go with them?" Garrison asked later, as they all headed out to the firing range.

The steady look he received, the look in those eyes, let him believe without question the words that followed, "not a bit! Like I said, it was good, it was ruddy good!"


End file.
